Amnesia: The Equine's Shadow
by TheAuthorGl1m0
Summary: A unicorn wakes up in a strange and somehow familiar palace, remembering nothing except for her friends, and of a dangerous entity lurking in the hallways she now walks. Now, she must navigate the darkness of this unnerving labyrinth, and reveal the mysteries of what happened to this place... one memory at a time. [Originally posted on ]


I: _Rainfall_

Darkness. That was all she could feel. It invaded her mind, penetrated her thoughts, and obscured her sight. Her faculties of consciousness faded in and out as she stumbled blindly against the shadows that she was swift to curse. Throbbing spasms of pain wracked her skull, as if it were threatening to crack open from some kind of intense internal pressure. The mare clutched at her temples blindly and swore under her breath for the nth time.

"Must not forget," she managed to speak with great effort. "Some things – I can't let go! Where I am—augh!" Another wave of pain radiated through her cranium, and she stopped. Her breathing became labored as the strength threatened to abandon her body and leave her in the dark. "My name — my name is… ugh, I can't—!"

She stumbled again, managing to step down the hallway towards the next room. The darkness still gripped at her. Even as she strained her eyelids open to see the path ahead, the edges of her vision were severely blurred and distorted. She was forced to close them tightly again; the pain was simply too much. "I live in Ponyville," she gasped out, falling to the cold floor as she groaned in pain. "My name – my name…!" She shook her head to ward off the agony. "Augh! N-no! My friends, all gone… I have to save…!"

Urging her body to stand, the mare staggered forward again through the nearest doorway. With a grunt of effort, she forced the wooden door to swing open, and she collapsed to the wet, stone tile floor on the other side of it. She could not bring herself to open her eyes again to see where she was.

The sudden sound of thunder and rainfall seemed to rise above the pain for the briefest of moments, and a white flash of lightning was bright enough for her to see from beneath her eyelids. Groaning and panting, she managed to drag herself several yards along the floor, blindly crawling towards nothing. She was rapidly losing her will to go on; every fiber of her being screamed at her to stop this madness and give up.

But she wouldn't. Not without a fight, at least.

"This is crazy… I need—_ugh!_—find… Urgh… I c-can't remember where…"

What little vigor that had managed to bring the mare here at last departed, and the darkness quickly set to work seeping into her consciousness. Her memories began to fade as her awareness slipped into a state of unknowing. The sound of precipitation and thunder began to quiet as her thoughts became hopelessly blank.

"C-can't stay awake," she breathed, feeling her body go numb. "I'm so sorry… I was too weak…"

Finally admitting defeat, the mare allowed her body to fall limp as she lapsed into unconsciousness. The final thought that her mind could manage to process before failing outright was but a simple question:

_What have I done?_

======O======

Rain.

The soft and delicate patter of water dribbling onto stone was somehow loud enough to make the mare stir. She shifted in place slowly, feeling the smooth and wet texture of the tiles she was lying on. As soon as her mind registered this feeling, many more became known to her—not all at once, but gradually. Almost as if each individual sense was waking up with her, one at a time.

Her ears pricked-up automatically; she could hear the gentle rain that woke her, and spent a moment of quiet indolence listening to it. Smell came next, with the mare taking in the general scent of the wet air around her. She, however, did _not_ care for the odor that her own body was producing, as she found that the musky, unwashed aroma of her own fur coat assailed her.

With two major senses accounted for, she started to fully regain her feeling. But she did not like what she felt, for the most part. Her head throbbed with a dull ache, and the mare unconsciously reached a hoof up to rub it as she moaned. She wasn't sure why she was in such pain. As far as she knew, she hadn't struck herself on any low joists, or had fallen from any height. She felt something hard and bony protruding from her head—but pulled her hoof away from it rather quickly, as she found that the pain only worsened as she touched it.

With a groan, the mare slowly opened her eyes, and became aware of her surroundings. She was in a hallway, one that ran along the outer edge of some kind of ornate palace. As this particular hall had large, glassless windows that were open to the outside air, a cool and gentle breeze was running through the hall and across the mare's moderately-soaked coat. It was almost tranquil, in a way; she felt somewhat grateful for this moment of serenity.

The stony tiles she was splayed out onto were wet with rainwater, and only when a wayward drop of water fell on her muzzle did she look up. Portions of the ceiling were littered with holes—how they had gotten there, she wasn't sure—and the runoff from the recent rainstorm was still pouring down them onto the floor below.

"Wh-where…" She swallowed deeply, realizing how dry and scratchy her throat was. Her voice had cracked, too; she was surprised by the sound of her own voice. "Where am I?"

The mare already felt foalish for asking such a question. Of _course_ she knew where she was. She was in — actually, no. She _didn't_ know where she was. Upon trying to recall where this place was, and what it was called, her mind turned-up empty. How strange, she thought. Somehow, she could not remember that. Everything from before she woke up was a mere blur, aside from feeling pain. To her, it felt like a long, long time since she had last woken up.

In fact, _why_ was she here, apparently having decided to take up sleeping on the floor? _How_ did she get here? _When_ did she get there? _What_ had happened to her?

…For that matter, _who_ was she?

"I can't… I can't remember anything," she quietly conceded. Her mind was utterly blank—a fact that should have caused her more distress than it was. She had yet to come to full realization of the problems this would cause, however. "I don't know what happened to me… What was I even doing?"

Summoning what little, frail strength that she possessed, the mare heaved her sorry body off of the cold hard floor and checked her surroundings. It certainly was dark. If not for the moonlight that shone through the wide-open windows (and the few wayward holes in the ceiling), then it would have been pitch black. Instead, the hallway was in a mediated state of both faint illumination and gloom—a harmonization of light and dark that felt rather ominous to the mare.

She shivered a bit. It's not that the dark scared her much, no; it simply felt rather cold. Icy, almost, despite the lack of snow or actual ice. The constant blowing of the wind may have contributed to that, though her dampened coat and the wetness of her surroundings weren't making it any warmer either.

She took a hesitant step forward, and as she put her hoof on the floor she heard a tiny _splash_-ing sound. A bit startled at feeling a wet sensation on her frontal hoof, she turned to stare down at what she had stepped in. A puddle of water, as it happened, that had collected from what little rainwater that flowed through here. Nothing odd or unusual about that, she supposed. Except—

"Hang on," the mare said with a start, squinting her eyes to make sure she was seeing properly in the low lighting. "Are these… petals?"

Floating tenderly on the surface of the puddle were four tiny pink petals. From what kind of flower, the mare had no idea. A few other petals of the same variety were nearby, resting nice and dry on the stone floor. Something else caught the mare's attention as well when she gazed at the puddle: her own reflection. By the moon's faint white glow, she could make out her features.

She was obviously a mare, of course. Her disheveled-looking lavender coat was matted, and her dark-purple mane and tail was split and frayed in some places. A stripe of pink accented her mane as well. From out of her mane, she saw the conical shape of what appeared to be a horn protruding from her forehead—that would explain the thing that she had felt on her head earlier, the mare supposed. She reached up with a hoof to feel it again. Not surprisingly, it still felt extremely tender and sore. But, to her surprise, it also _glowed_ slightly at her touch.

"So… that's who I am? What even _am_ I?" the mare thought, taking in her appearance; examining herself as best she could, trying to remember if this was what she was supposed to look like. Obviously equine, with a distinctive horn... "Uh… a unicorn, I think… Yeah, I think that's it."

Having succeeded in placing the species, she then tried to place a _name_ to the face. Any name. She scoured every recess of her mostly empty mind for an answer to this riddle, but it eluded her all the same. The mare felt frustrated. Her face contorted in anger as she slapped the puddle and muddled up the reflection. She couldn't remember anything! Why? Why couldn't she remember?!

She grumbled a curse, and sat back on her haunches to try and think her situation through. The only things that stood out in her mind were but a hoofful of simple points; short, bare-bone memories. She wasn't fully aware of their full meanings, but she somehow knew they were important. It felt like they were being cradled—_protected_, almost—from her memory loss.

_I live in Ponyville._

_My friends are gone. I must save them._

_My name is… … …_

That last bit, the all-important identity of her psyche, her name — it was missing. She felt so empty—so _incomplete_—without a name. Who cares if she lived in Ponyville, wherever that was? And these friends of hers; why did she have to save them? Just because they were "gone"? She didn't even remember having any friends! It didn't make any sense!

Now she was getting even more frustrated. Where was she now? It certainly didn't look like any 'Ponyville' that she could think of. If there was one thing for sure, she just wanted to get out of this place. The darkness was starting to make her feel nervous, and the oddly quiet atmosphere made her wonder if she was even supposed to be here. Where was everyone else, she wondered? Weren't there supposed to be others around here, as well?

Just then, another gust of wind kicked up. It was slightly more powerful than last time, she noticed, and her mane was almost blown completely to one side because of it. She didn't have the audacity to simply curse it out loud. The wind gust picked up some dust and dirt along the way, blowing up a tiny cloud of detritus…

…and pink petals.

The unicorn mare watched with a mild sense of curiosity and fascination at the way the petals flitted and swam through the air. Somehow, she felt like she should have been making an observation of this subtle phenomenon — study the patterns, calculate how and why the lightweight petals were moving as they were.

She shook this intrusive thought from her head. It didn't matter much to her at the moment. A part of her felt somewhat disappointed at missing out on this apparent "opportunity", but the unicorn shrugged off the sensation.

The wind carried those alluring petals down the open-air corridor, swishing and sashaying from left to right, until they disappeared out of sight into a doorway that she noticed was left wide open. It couldn't have been more than a dozen hooves from her current position.

"That was a bit… abnormal," the mare observed, still watching the door that the petals had just been blown into. "I wonder where they went…"

Unsure of the validity of the mysterious petal's guidance, she nevertheless decided that she should—goodness gracious, she was about to follow a bunch of _petals_ to freedom? Unbelievable.

But somehow, it had to be right. It's not like there was another way out of this place. Unless, of course, she was completely wrong. The petals could be little more than odd coincidence, and she would just get herself hopelessly lost by following them deeper into the darkness—

The unicorn dispersed the bleak thoughts stirring in her mind; there were more urgent matters to deal with. Right now, she kept but a simple point in mind: _follow the trail of petals_. She wasn't sure why, but when she thought about these petals, something seemed to _click_ inside her brain – like a puzzle piece sliding into the right place. The mare, for the life of her, couldn't imagine _how_ they were significant, but she somehow _knew_ that they were. In this instance, she decided to follow her gut instinct.

She released a breath that she hadn't realized that she was holding. "Follow the leader I guess," she muttered, seeing no other reason to stay in this area.

Walking with uncertainty, taking small, treacherous steps at first, the mare soon found her stride. Her head still ached, though the pain was merely distracting at worst. She still couldn't quite walk straight, or that fast even, but it was certainly an improvement over "completely immobile". Perhaps if she had a better sense of direction, then she could count on her own judgment to guide her; not fragile petals like the ones that she had chosen to follow. The thought hurt what little pride she had, but the mare tried not to let it bother her.

Trotting over to the open doorway, the unicorn suddenly felt an odd sense of déjà-vu. This door was familiar. Very familiar. Somehow. She didn't quite know why. After a moment of contemplation, with nothing further surfacing in mind, the mare decided it wasn't worth wasting precious seconds on. She ignored the feeling, and slowly trotted inside.

Rather than close the door (which would only be the polite thing to do, so as not to allow a draft inside), she simply left it open. This was not laziness; she left it open so that the hallway beyond would be at least partially illuminated. If the mare had not done so and closed it behind her, she would have been quickly plunged into complete darkness.

But even with the light that was now filtering in from behind her – casting a menacing-looking shadow inside – the hall was still quite dark. Not utterly, no, but the unicorn could not see much further than a few meters ahead of her. She found herself gulping. Everything was still. Almost too still. It reeked of something nasty waiting to happen.

"Dark," the mare observed quietly, shivering. Whether it was from the cold or from fear at this point, she wasn't even sure. "It's really… dark. Just what's _in_ there?"

She gulped again. Oh well, waiting around wasn't going to solve her situation anytime soon. Help could not be counted on to come and find her if she was to stay in a darkened corner of this place. She stepped further into the corridor, and nearly tripped over something.

"Ah!" she yelped softly, finding herself unable to stay silent. She backed up and looked at what she had tried to step over. It appeared to be a cylindrically-shaped metal object of some kind. The top end was open, and what the mare presumed to be the cap was lying nearby. She must have accidentally kicked it open, then. Curiosity piqued, she bent down to examine the object, and squinted her eyes to see in the low light.

Inside the open container appeared to be several tiny crystals. Each one had a dull reddish glow to it, as if there was a fire burning inside each individual gem. The mare breathed softly, admiring their subtle beauty. But what were they doing in a capsule such as this? Answers once again failed her, as did her sense of curiosity. They were just some weird rocks; they weren't worth staring at.

The unicorn was just starting to continue on down the hallway and leave the thing alone, but an insistent thought tugged at her mind. She looked back toward the small cylinder containing the gems, and hesitated. Maybe they would useful for something? She shrugged, turned back around, and bent down to pick up the case of crystals in her mouth. Perhaps she would just carry it around for _just_ a bit…

"Guess I'll take these with me then," she spoke through her teeth, her voice slightly muffled. "Now, where was I go—?"

There was a sudden **SLAM** of the door she had just entered through, ringing out through the hallway with a terrible noise. The light from outside was cut off just as swiftly. She flinched and let out a small yelp, accidentally dropping the metal cylinder to the floor with a hollow clang. A scream rose in the unicorn's throat and died again almost simultaneously. Her breathing quickened, and her pulse raced.

"Who's there?!" she questioned aloud, her primal sense of dread beginning to take hold. "What's going on!? Oh no, no no no…!"

Fueled by adrenaline, the mare jerked her neck around to look at the door behind her. Aside from the soft light peeking from below the door, it was but a wall of darkness to her eyes. It had clearly been slammed shut. But, _how_ did the door close? _Who_ closed the door? Was this place not completely deserted minutes ago?

The equine started to panic as her imagination ran wild. _Anything_ could be out there; rationality and logic be damned. And, in her current mental state, she could only think of the single sensible thing that a scared filly in her situation would do: curl up into a ball, and cower. And that is precisely what she did. She knew next to nothing about dignity; she couldn't even remember the importance of such values anyway.

From somewhere, the unicorn could hear a terrible rasping. It echoed through the pitch-dark hallway, finding its way to obstructions and reflecting in another direction entirely. She soon realized, however, that the rasps of breath were nothing but her own; a revelation that brought on both relief and a distant sense of embarrassment.

Eschewing from the act of respiration for a moment, she strained her sensitive ears for a sound. If there were another presence nearby, then surely she could manage to hear it. In the silence of the pitch-black surroundings, she remained quite still; the slightest tap of hooves on tiles were like a firecracker to the mare's ears. From beyond the closed doorway, she could soon make out the faint whooshing of the outdoor breezes as they kicked up again.

"The wind," she repeated to herself, thinking through what this could have meant. "…Ah! Wind! The _wind_ must have blown the door shut!"

She sighed with placid relief, and uncurled herself from her protective stance before bringing herself back on all fours. At least there was now a plausible explanation for the door slamming. Logic and reasoning had won the day, it seemed. Still, that event had truly alarmed her, and she was still feeling more than a little tense; the darkness still surrounded her, after all. She couldn't see hide or hoof of anything around her, except for…red?

To her surprise, the crystals from the open container she had picked up (and subsequently dropped when the door slammed shut) were glowing faintly; their dull illumination was much more noticeable than before. They seem even more breathtaking when fully able to cast their own light.

Having found a means of lighting (dim as it was), the unicorn mare picked up the box again and scooped up the crystals that had spilled onto the floor. When she was done, she turned and slowly walked back down the silent hallway, keeping a firm grip on the box. By now, she was about a dozen hooves away from the now-shut door behind her, and the light from her crystal box was almost too dim to see even a half-hoof through the darkness ahead.

Thankfully, after another minute of slow ambling she had finally reached the end of the hallway. Another door—a wooden one with an antique handle on the front—stood in her path. She immediately noticed the petals that rested directly at the base of the door, their pink color now vivid from the similarly-hued light source.

"Well, that was easy enough," she observed, glad that she was making steady progress. But now was not the time to celebrate just yet. It was still very dark, and the unicorn was not sure if this door would lead someplace brighter, someplace just as dark, out of the castle, or to the pits of Tartarus itself. At this point, what more could be lost or achieved?

She steeled herself, and put a hoof to the door and pushed. It wouldn't budge. She tried again, harder this time. It shifted slightly, so it wasn't locked. Still, it didn't look like it would very easy to move. A look of grim determination appeared on the unicorn's face.

"Oh well," she muttered, positioning her body against the door as she dug her hooves in the tiles. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained…!"

She put all of her weight and flank against the exit, teeth biting tightly on the cylinder as she strained against it. With a dreadful creaking of the hinges, and discordant scraping of wood against stone, the door slowly swung open. The mare smiled victoriously as she pushed her way through, but then put a hoof to her head and moaned. All that stress made her head hurt again. And her teeth were a tad sore too, from clenching the cylinder so hard.

She managed to shrug off the pain and walked into the adjoining room, leaving the dark hallway behind. With a slight gasp, she realized that at least _one_ of her predictions had indeed come true: The room in here was significantly brighter.

Though, it was still a tad murky. There were flickering candles here and there, the ceiling was adorned with large square-shaped holes paned with glass—skylights, she realized—with the moon shining down through them, and somepony who designed this place apparently thought it would be chic to hang a chandelier as well. A large, marble staircase went straight up the center of the room, and branched off in both left and right wings that led to the upper levels. If nothing else, she felt that this chamber was _extremely_ familiar.

"It looks like a," she started to say, but then stopped herself. Like a _what?_ She honestly did not know. While she could not deny that this room looked rather important, and was extensively familiar, the exact purpose of this chamber was lost on her. "Like a… uh, what kind of room is this?"

And that is when she started to remember.


End file.
